


crumbs of bread

by Flamingbluepanda



Category: The Old Guard (Comics), The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Anal Sex, Chubby Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, DRUGGED pastries, Enthusiastic Consent, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Honeypot Missions, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Touching, Pastries, Undercover Missions, that parts consensual tho, thats not a tag but it should be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:01:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27974846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flamingbluepanda/pseuds/Flamingbluepanda
Summary: And Hansel said to Gretel: Let us drop these bread crumbs so that together we find our way home
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Minor Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Others
Comments: 6
Kudos: 132





	crumbs of bread

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this yesterday in a frenzy induced by the need to write Joe on a honeypot mission, which devolved into an excuse for chubby joe content and smut. 
> 
> Literally. the plot wrapps up half way through the fic. the other half is Nicky enthusiastically loving Joe. 
> 
> Dedicated to my phone, which is broken. Im going to go work on my big bang now i swear

Joe sighed mournfully as he closed the door to his flat behind him, leaning back against the door and rubbing his temples. He kicked off his shoes, tugging at the knot in his tie and deciding yet again to kill Copley for giving him a job as a corporate worker. 

He smiled when he noticed the note on the table. He also noticed that his dishes had been cleaned, and he bet that if he went into the bedroom he’d find one of Nicky’s shirts tucked under a pillow. He padded across the room and picked up the note, tracing his fingers over Nicky’s delicate calligraphy. 

He’d been undercover for three months at Uwame Food Co. In that time, Joe had made barely any headway with the mark. James Egan, the son-in-law of founder Shiro Uwame, was well known in the business world for being a shady party boy, who’s wife (Izumi Uwame) died under mysterious circumstances. There were many theories about what Egan might be involved in, and it was Joe’s job to get his attention and figure out what he was up to so that the others could take him down. 

No physical contact with the others for three months. Joe missed his family. 

With a sigh he read Nicky’s note at least twenty times, then he shoved it down the garbage disposal. 

Just after he did so his fancy new iPhone buzzed in his pocket. Frowning, he pulled it out and tapped the email alert. 

_ Please come to Mr. Egan’s office tomorrow at 2 pm.  _

Joe grinned. 

* * *

The position Copley had gotten for him in the company was head of a sales department. Joe was a bit ashamed to admit that work was probably the most satisfying part of his day -- It reminded him of his family. For the first time in centuries, he could recall his father’s voice in his head, lecturing him about fair prices as he sat on his knee. 

Joe had made a show of himself, using centuries worth of knowledge to easily boost sales for his department and get himself noticed by Egan. Their first meetings had been cordial, professional, and awash with some of Joe’s best and flirtiest looks. He’d cut his hair to slip into the personality of Salim Abdul, and grown his beard out a little more. He wore some of Nicky’s favorite cologne, and if his clothes were a little tight well, that was his business. 

Judging from how many times Egan had checked out his ass, Joe thought it was working. 

Another two weeks after the email, Joe’s phone rang. He smiled when he glanced down at the screen and tapped the green button.  _ “Salaam,  _ mama.”

_ “Kinky,”  _ Nile replied, and he smiled tenderly when he heard Andy snort in the background.  _ “How’s everything going?” _

“Work is great! I’m making friends, my boss complimented me on my sales numbers- Tell baba to stop laughing! I can hear him over your shoulder!”

_ “So you’re getting his attention then?” _

“I  _ know  _ I learned everything from him, yes. I’m very grateful. How are you? How’s Izaak?”

_ “We’re all good. Booker is still taking Quynh on her tour of the world. Look, we’re just calling to tell you that you’re officially bugged. Congrats, That means no more visits from the tooth fairy.” _

“That’s great! Tell him I miss him.”

_ “I miss you too!”  _

Joe’s smile grew impossibly wider at Nicky shouting in the background. He hoped the people watching didn’t notice the waver in his voice as he carried on the fake conversation. “I miss you too, Mama. I wish I could come to visit but- No, if I wanted time off I could have it, but tickets to Tunis are expensive.”

_ “Keep up the hard work, Joe. We’ll see you soon.” _

“Alright mama, I love you.”

Shuffling, and then Nicky said  _ “I love you too, my stars. Don’t fall in love with your boss.” _

“Okay, bye.”

Joe sat back on the couch and sighed, running a hand down his face. So now he was being watched. Lovely. 

* * *

The interactions with Egan (“Call me Jim, Salim!”) turned significantly less professional with the arrival of the gifts. 

It started small, a cheap box of candies at his desk with a note thanking him for an excellent quarter. Created in house, of course, because no CEO would ever try to flirt with products that didn’t also remind the recipient of his wealth. He lazily scanned the packaging for halal ingredients, hoping that he could use the dietary excuse to chuck them, but they were infuriatingly clean… and infuriatingly delicious. 

The drinks invite followed, and then a dinner invite. Egan told him about his dead wife, how he cared for the company his father in law had left him. He was always careful to keep the conversation focused on Joe, who prattled off story after edited story about his family and the childhood he supposedly had in Holland. Suddenly and without warning, Joe was being romanced within an inch of his life. 

And that, somehow, included pastries. 

Constant,  _ decadent  _ pastries. 

Croissants appeared at his desk in the mornings, lunch dates were concluded with jelly-filled doughnuts covered in powdered sugar. Cheesecakes and Turkish Delight appeared in his fridge with a regularity that was frankly creepy, but poor Salim was in love and had a set of rose-tinted glasses taped to his face, so Joe said nothing. 

And it was all delicious because of course, it was. He didn’t even have time to go to the gym- at work he was in the process of convincing the company to include Halal labels on their packaging, and the moment he left he was swept into a limo and taken to a restaurant or Jim Egan’s mansion. He was taken to country clubs that used to not let him in for golfing and to cheesy action films that had no idea how battle worked for viewing. 

He was exhausted, and he was getting  _ soft  _ around the middle. The only benefit to his whirlwind life was that he fell into bed every night too tired to even miss Nicky. 

* * *

He could admit later that he got distracted. 

He moved through his days in a dizzy fugue state of exhaustion. He missed a check-in call nine months in after he fell asleep on his couch and woke up to Booker pounding down his door. 

He invited him in, knowing exactly why they sent him- Booker can’t currently be tied back to the team. Booker slapped him on the back and laughed about college days while Joe halfheartedly prepared some chicken leone for him. He was on his day off, thank god. 

“Anyway, that’s enough about me- what’s going on with you? Packing on the pounds much?” 

Joe’s head snapped up, and for a moment he felt sick when he realized he missed everything Booker said. 

There was a code in there somewhere. A message from his  _ husband  _ in there somewhere. Joe suddenly wanted to throw up. 

“Ha, yeah…” Joe managed, forcing out an awkward laugh. “I have a new boyfriend and he’s… woo. He’s a little intense with the romance, y’know? Don’t get me wrong, I’ll never complain about being taken somewhere fancy, but some nights a guy just wants to sit at home and watch the game, y’know?”

When was the last time he checked the football scores? When was the last time he checked the  _ news? _

“Rich new boytoy?” Booker teased and happily led the conversation for the rest of the afternoon. 

As Joe walked him to the door, Booker gripped his arm tight enough to bruise, eyes honest, and said “You should come visit sometime. Nicole is worried about you.”

Joe swallowed thickly at the blatant double meaning there. “I- Yeah. I’ll see.” 

Booker left, and Joe barely made it to the bathroom before throwing up everything he ate. 

* * *

He called in sick the next day, claiming that he had food poisoning. He settled on the couch with a bag of carrots, then dialed Nicky. 

He answered immediately, voice worried.  _ “Tesoro?” _

“Hey Book. I just wanted to say thanks for the visit yesterday, I needed it.” Joe croaked out. Nicky’s sigh was fond, concerned. 

_ “You had me worried when you didn’t answer the check-in. Booker said you were… not yourself, yesterday.” _

“Yeah,” Joe swallowed, “that’s actually why I’m calling, I think I fed you some bad chicken.”

_ “Maybe your stomach just needed a break from sweets, hm?”  _ Nicky teased, and Joe’s laugh was genuine if not weak. The carrots tasted like ash in his mouth, and Joe got up to put them away, phone still against his ear. 

“Yeah, sorry.” 

He studied the fridge, staring at his untouched orange juice and the half-eaten slice of chocolate cake from his date the other night. 

_ “I miss you,”  _ Nicky sighed,  _ “I can’t get a good night's sleep so I just pace all night. I’m driving Andy crazy.” _

Joe laughed again, fetching a fork from the drawer. “Tell Nicole to stop worrying so much by the way. She’ll make herself go grey, and the world can’t handle a woman that beautiful.”

_ “A compliment and an entreat in one, excellent.” _

This time Joe’s laugh was genuine, and muffled around the fork in his mouth. He swallowed and yawned at the same time that Nicky asked  _ “Are you eating?” _

Joe blinked, then stared down at the fork in his hand and the cake on the counter in front of him. 

The cake he had no memory of taking out. 

_ “Yusuf, tell me you’re not eating sweets right now.” _

Joe swallowed, feeling dizzy again. “I, uh- guilty! Heh, man I need to get back to the gym.”

_ “Okay, now I’m more worried,”  _ Nicky said,  _ “Joe, do we need to pull the plug? Something’s going on with you and I don’t like it.” _

For a few moments, Joe wanted to scream yes,  _ yes,  _ please get him out of this infuriatingly clean apartment and far away from this man. 

But he forced himself to get a grip. He was a professional. He could do this.

“No,” He said, “No Book, I’m fine. I’m just gonna go back to sleep.”

_ “... I love you.” _

“Bye.” Joe choked out, then hung up.

Not ten minutes later, Egan showed up with bland chicken soup, settling on the couch and playing the good boyfriend. 

“Sometimes you just wanna sit around and watch the game, right?” Egan joked as he turned on some baseball. 

Joe bit back the scream he wanted to let out, valiantly fought the urge to chuck the soup at his smug little face and shake him until he told Joe where the hell the bugs in his apartment were. Instead, he just forced himself to eat the whole bowl, and then fell asleep against Egan’s side. 

* * *

Two days later, Joe was stopped on his way out of the office by Janice, who was kind and young and deserved a better job than this. 

“Sorry Salim,” she said mournfully, “The boss wants to see you before you go.”

He gave her a gentle smile, changing direction, and letting himself inside the large office. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

“Salim! Come inside, close the door.” Egan said, smiling brightly. Joe did as instructed, smiling awkwardly. “What is this, some sort of ambush?”

“Just a surprise!” Egan laughed, “stop being so suspicious! Come here, I have a gift for you.”

Joe crossed the room, and Egan presented him with a plate of Kaber Ellouz covered in so much sugar that the smell almost made Joe gag. 

“I told the boys down in the lab that we should branch out into more ethnic desserts, and they wanted to make something called Bambalouni? But that was just doughnuts, so I had this made! Happy six months!” 

“Has it been that long?” Joe laughed, hoping that he was doing an alright job of hiding the edge to it. “Wow! Six months, that’s- I’m so touched, this is so sweet! Thank you!”

He leaned forward and kissed him quickly. Six months and there had just been some kisses and one session of heavy petting- Joe needed to wrap this up quick before Egan got impatient. 

Speaking of, he stepped back and held the plate out again. “Well, try one!”

Swallowing, Joe picked up one of the delicate little balls and popped it in his mouth, chewing and swallowing. “Wow, that's- there’s a  _ lot  _ of sugar in there, huh?”

“Amongst other things,” Egan said, voice suddenly dark. Joe looked up to see Egan glaring at him. Joe took a step back, swallowing and fighting the fog in his head that had become far too commonplace for comfort. 

“Something wrong?” Joe asked, and Egan snarled, throwing the plate at the wall and shattering it. Joe let out a convincing yelp of surprise, and Egan charged at him, grabbing him by the collar.

“I don’t get it,” he snarled, “there was enough diazepam in that to down an elephant! I’ve been slipping shit to you for six months, how are you not unconscious or dead?!”

Oh.  _ oh.  _ Thank god, it wasn’t him, he was just drugged. Ingested drugs didn’t do much for them beyond a mild buzz, their bodies just metabolized it with everything else. It was the same reason alcohol didn’t hit as much.

“You gotta inject it,” Joe muttered for some reason, and Egan rolled his eyes. “Clearly.”

There was a prick in Joe’s hand, and the world spun off into blissful darkness.

* * *

When he opened his eyes again he was face down on the plush carpet of Egan’s office, and he noticed three things immediately. One, hands were groping his thighs, two, his pants were gone, and three, his mind was finally, blissfully clear. 

Which was why he was able to act without thinking. He swung his left leg up, bending his knee over the back of Egan’s neck. At the same moment, he dug his foot into Egan’s chest and flipped them both over. 

Egan shrieked, and a knife suddenly was stabbed into Joe’s side, knocking the wind out of him. 

_ “Fuck!”  _ Joe shouted, slamming his fist into Egan’s cheek and scrambling off of him. That was a good stab, right to the lung. Grunting, Joe pulled the knife out and stabbed it into Egan’s hand as he tried to get away. He clutched the corner of Egan’s desk, ignoring the man’s screams and hoping Janice had left for the day. He tried to breathe through the feeling of his lung reinflating, grabbing the phone off the desk and dialing Copley. 

“I’m burnt,” He said as soon as Copley answered. “Also I stabbed him. Also, tell Nicky he drugged and tried to assault me, it’ll get him here quicker.”

To his credit, Copley didn’t comment, just said he’d pass it along and hung up. Joe sighed as the pain in his side faded, and he went to the corner for his pants.

“Who are you?” Egan panicked, “Interpol? Mossad? CIA?”

“Assuming I’m Mossad is racist,” Joe said, crouching next to him. “Unless you did something to piss them off? Anything you wanna confess before the cavalry comes?”

Egan spat at him, and Joe rolled his eyes. “Fine, be that way. My husband will get the answers out of you, and he probably won’t like it when I tell him you drugged me for six months. He’s the protective type you see, and  _ wicked  _ with a longsword.” 

He leaned close to Egan’s ear. “Mafia ties too. My Nicolo is going to have a field day with you.”

By the time Nicky kicked in the door, sword out, Joe had everything they needed.

“He killed his wife and drugged his father in law into signing the papers before he died,” Joe explained. “He puts quite a lot of illegal material in his food, actually.”

“You couldn’t leave anything for Nicky?” Andy groaned. “He’s going to be insufferable for days after this!”

Joe didn’t answer her, he was too busy kissing Nicky for the first time in nine months. It was  _ so  _ much better than kissing Egan. Nicky tasted like espresso and lemons, and Joe’s knees turned to jelly as Nicky’s hands crept under his suit jacket to hold his sides. 

When they finally split apart, Joe’s smile hurt his cheeks, and Nicky sighed happily, pressing his forehead to Joe’s.

“You could’ve left me a reason to stab him,” Nicky said softly, and Joe rolled his eyes.

“The drugging isn’t reason enough?”

“... fair point,” Nicky said cheerfully, then rammed his sword down through Egan’s stomach and into the floor. Then he took Joe home. 

* * *

While Copley cleaned everything up, the team got out of the country.

They landed in Paraguay a day after their confrontation. During the plane ride, Joe had debriefed with Andy about what he’d learned (not much) and what they learned (a lot more) and about how Quynh and Booker needed more time to heal before they came home. They deduced that if he’d been that dazed for the last several months, Egan must’ve been putting a hell of a lot of tranquilizers in his food. He wondered idly how he got stuff into the things they bought from restaurants, and Nile shrugged and said he probably paid the chefs. The whole time Nicky just kept a hand on Joe’s waist, and Joe relished in the feeling of being alert and not drugged for hours on end. It was one of his better plane rides, all in all.

(Nile jokingly offered him a cookie from her bag of chips ahoy at one point, and Joe almost puked. That part was less nice. He was never going to eat a baked good ever again at this rate.)

Their suite in Paraguay was fancy. Two rooms, large beds, a minibar. Joe asked the concierge about gym hours while picking up the keys, and Nicky gave him the strangest look when he did so. 

They went to their room, and Joe sighed happily, throwing open the windows and breathing in the fresh air. 

Warm arms wrapped around his waist, and Joe sighed, leaning back against him. “Oh, I missed this. I missed  _ you.” _

“I missed you too,” Nicky hummed, kissing Joe’s neck and tugging at the T-shirt he’d changed into. Joe turned in his arms, surprised. “What are you doing?”

“Reuniting with my husband,” Nicky said immediately. “Why, what are  _ you  _ doing?”

“Planning how long it’ll take me to work off this pastry belly,” Joe said, raising his eyebrows. “Nicky are you sure you don’t-”

“If you’re about to ask me if I don’t want you -- _every_ part of you -- I’m going to have to push you out of this window,” Nicky muttered, leaning forward to kiss Joe languidly. Joe groaned against him- six months in a drug-induced haze meant that he hadn’t even thought about getting off in _weeks,_ and suddenly he _craved_ Nicky’s hands, craved them like the addict he’d become, craved a hit from the one addiction he could never kick.

He bustled Nicky backward, never getting more than a few inches from him until Nicky’s knees hit the edge of the bed, and they both tumbled onto the king-sized mattress with a little whoosh of air. Joe straddled Nicky, pulling his shirt over his head and watching as Nicky licked his lips like  _ Joe  _ was something to devour. 

_ “Bellissimo,”  _ Nicky breathed, “So beautiful,  _ il mio sole.”  _

His hands came up to rub at Joe’s sides while Joe smirked down at him and bent forward to undo each button on Nicky’s linen shirt one at a time, nipping at every inch of exposed skin, creeping lower and lower until he was mostly off the bed and he was bent over the button of Nicky’s fly. 

“Haven’t you had enough to eat, Yusuf?” Nicky teased, but it came out way more breathy than he probably intended. Joe smirked. “When it comes to you?  _ Never.”  _

Nicky opened his mouth to retort, but it turned into a whine when Joe scraped his teeth over the soft skin of Nicky’s underbelly, right where the line of his boxers lay.

Joe smirked up at him, undoing Nicky’s pants and underwear and  _ finally  _ getting his mouth around something he actually was  _ craving. _

Nicky groaned, tossing his head back and grabbing Joe’s hair. It had almost grown back to its original length, that was how long he’d been undercover. 

And that was when Joe decided he didn’t want to think anymore, and he slid down Nicky’s dick until he felt it in the back of his throat, and Nicky  _ yelped.  _

Joe reached one hand up to grab Nicky’s wrist and squeeze, encouraging him to clutch Joe’s hair tighter. Nicky obliged, fucking upwards into Joe’s mouth slow and steady again and again and again until Joe’s head was buzzing with the need for oxygen and Nicky was tugging him up and off for a kiss that  _ sizzled.  _

Nicky pulled back with a gasp grinning up at him. “Sweet enough for you?”

“Mm, no, I like things a little spicier-” Joe said, and Nicky growled, hands clamping on Joe’s ass and shoving him closer before rolling them over so Joe was on his back. 

Joe stared up at this man, this god, crouched over him with his shirt hanging open and cock hanging out of his pants, and he groaned. “You’re  _ too far away,  _ Nicolo-

Nicky bent to kiss him again, undoing Joe’s cargo shorts and pushing them off. “We don’t have  _ lube-” _

“I don’t care!” Joe half wailed, “Nicky-”

“It’s been nine months,” Nicky grunted, “we aren’t doing this without  _ lube-” _

“If you don’t fuck me in the next two seconds I’ll fly back to America and let  _ Egan  _ do it.” Joe snapped and shuddered when Nicky’s eyes darkened. 

“Don’t tease-” Nicky started, but Joe waggled his eyebrows.

“Who’s teasing? Sure he drugged me, but he took me way nicer places than you d-”

And that was when Nicky pushed his fingers into Joe’s mouth for him to suck. 

“You can still run your mouth,” Nicky grumbled, “clearly I am less effective than the drugs Egan was feeding you. I refuse to believe that.”

Joe grinned as he released Nicky’s fingers, grunting as Nicky pushed two of them in with no remorse. 

Of course, as soon as he did, Nicky hesitated. “Is it-”

“Nicolo  _ I swear to god-” _

“Just checking,” Nicky pecked him on the nose, then scissored his fingers until Joe was loose and sobbing with it. He clung to Nicky’s shoulders as he moved atop him, digging his nails into the pale skin there until Nicky  _ hissed,  _ fucking him slow and languid and  _ hot. _

This was better than any drug, any possible substance Joe could consume  _ paled  _ in comparison to Nicky moving above him, inside him, kissing him again and again, his hand clutching Joe’s hip like he was lost at sea and Joe was keeping him afloat. 

This. this was better than anything he could or would ever have. 

Nicky kissed him again, swallowed his cries as he came and came and came.

* * *

Afterward, after Joe performed Ghusl and Nicky fetched them cups of coffee, Joe was curled in bed with him and Nicky was idly petting his stomach. 

“You’re really into this huh?” Joe teased, and Nicky looked up at him. “I’m into you.”

“Cute, but no, you’re a chubby chaser.”

“I’m  _ what?”  _

Joe laughed hard enough that his coffee spilled on the sheets. 

He was glad to be home. 

(and if the belly stayed a little longer, that was his business.)

**Author's Note:**

> And joe never ate a sweet again, the end! 
> 
> (now go back and read this again but picture Salim wearing a pair of thick rimmed black glasses. what a nerd)
> 
> My tumblr is www.flamingbluepanda.com I love you!!!


End file.
